


How to Train Your Titan

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Macro/Micro, Oral Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2013-05-29
Packaged: 2017-12-13 07:27:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/821613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Titan!Eren/Mikasa. Apparently bearing the fate of humankind on your shoulders doesn't magically negate your hormones. Who knew?</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to Train Your Titan

Ever since the threat of titan attack had seized humanity afresh, it seemed as if life had dwindled to little more than one shock after another. Unpleasant ones for the most part, true, but in comparison the precious few happy surprises shone all the brighter in Mikasa’s memory. For instance, just months ago she couldn’t have guessed that she would ever feel safe in the grip of a titan.

Granted, said titan also happened to be her dearest friend. That helped.

The pad of Eren’s thumb swept lightly over her clothed breasts, and she puffed out a shaky breath. _Maybe “safe” isn’t_ quite _the word I’m looking for,_  she thought as huge fingertips brushed her here and there with a hesitant, measured gentleness that was almost as maddening as it was endearing.

It had been Eren’s idea to steal behind this secluded stand of run-down apartments under cover of the night, and all because she’d let slip how, well,  _easy on the eyes_  she found him in titan form. By now most of the Scouting Legion had developed a cautious trust of this sized-up Eren; still, the two of them would probably be in at least a couple dozen kinds of trouble if anyone stumbled upon them using his power for  _this_  of all things.

“We’re really pushing our luck here,” she murmured.

Eren paused and peered at her as if asking a question. Not for the first time Mikasa marveled at the intensity of his eyes, so animated in his titan form’s otherwise nightmarishly frozen face—no cheeks, no lips, heavy brow set in a permanent glare. Something about the starkness of the contrast made her heart flutter.

“I didn’t say to stop,” she said with some amusement. “I just meant it would be risky to hang around too long.”

His eyes softened with relief, then popped wide open when she unbuckled her belt and started easing the waistband of her pants down her hips.

“It’ll go quicker this way,” she said, tone businesslike though she could feel the heat rising to her cheeks.

She kicked off her boots and slipped the rest of the way out of her pants, unable to contain a small smile when, eyes averted, Eren took them for her and set them aside. The boy was usually untamable; only for her would he act like such a gentleman.

He stared like a panic-paralyzed deer when she spread her legs for him without further ado.

“Well?” She grinned. “Do you need me to hold your hand?”

Few things rankled Eren quite like the suggestion that he was still dependent on Mikasa.  _Works every time,_  she thought as he dipped his head between her legs with an indignant snort.

Those menacing, incisor-studded jaws parted, admitting foot after glistening foot of tongue, and it wasn’t fear that sent waves of shivers up Mikasa’s spine. She bit back a curse as the very tip of the tongue took its first slow, tentative swipe up her slit.

 _I will not squeak. I will not squeak._  She chanted the words in her head like a mantra. Her resolve crumbled to dust when Eren began lapping at her sex in earnest, and she had to plug her mouth with her scarf.  _Eren’s scarf._

There was something to be said for having a fifty-foot-tall guy service you:  _Everything_  was Eren—the gigantic hand holding her up; the locks of glossy dark hair hemming her in and tickling her chest and belly as he moved; the monstrous yet mild face dominating her field of vision, bright green eyes half-lidded with undisguised lust.

That hot, eager titan tongue applied  _just_  the right amount of pressure to the underside of her clit, and she bit down hard on the scarf, muffling a particularly un-Mikasa-ish moan. Her embarrassing reaction was not lost on Eren. Eyes narrowing gleefully, he attacked the spot without mercy until she trembled and wailed, the damp scarf dropping from her mouth to slick a trail of saliva down her chin.

 

—————

 

“So how was it?” Eren asked. They’d abandoned the titan body where no one would be likely to notice the smoke that sizzled from it as it dissolved.

“Not bad,” Mikasa conceded.  _Understatement of the century._ Eren rolled his eyes as if in agreement with her thoughts, but he was grinning. She mirrored his smile. “Fine. It was perfect. Now can I have my clothes back?”

“Your clo— _shit_.”

Mikasa sighed. “What did you do, Eren?”

“I  _kinda_  left them on the roof of that apartment building without thinking. But hey, we can just come back for them tomorrow, right? No harm done.”

None indeed. Eren ended up trundling home in his undies that night, Mikasa smugly sporting his pants beside him. She couldn’t help musing how this arrangement reflected who  _really_  wore the pants in this relationship.


End file.
